From the annals of birthday greetings, as I struggle to provide at least a minimal response to the over a hundred people who have wished me happy birthday, in one way or another (several offering accompanying flower photos, knowing these would give me pleasure; my caregiver León Hernández Alvarez gave me an actual bouquet, an impressive assortment of white flowers).
From the previous report on birthday greetings, my 9/6/22 posting “Three greetings for 9/6/22”:
Alternatives to Happy birthday, nice though that greeting is. The household tradition (which comes from Ann Daingerfield Zwicky) is I am glad [or happy] you were born. Today’s greeting, from Gadi Niram: (long form, from Gadi) I can’t tell you how happy I am that you keep having birthdays; (short form, edited down by me) I’m happy you keep having birthdays.
Which is to say, I’m happy you’re still alive. Welcome words to someone who’s now 84, seriously impaired, but still kicking.
Now, for my 7-dozenth birthday — only 70 in duodecimal notation — Bill Poser has offered a fourth alternative:
May the hair on your toes grow longer and longer
— adapting this sentiment from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, Thorin Oakenshield addressing Bilbo Baggins:
May the hair on his toes never fall out! all praise to his wine and ale!
As it happens, I am like Jacob’s brother Esau, in Genesis 27:11 (KJV):
11 And Jacob said to Rebekah his mother, Behold, Esau my brother is a hairy man, and I am a smooth man
Medical people are inclined to view my hairiness as a defect, an annoyance to them in affixing leads for tests, bandages, and the like; they have to shave the sites (or else attach the things on my hairy body and then rip them off, painfully taking a lot of hair with them).
But the hair on my fingers and toes is very light, really not noticeable. Even so, it would please me to keep what I have, not to have any of it fall out. So Bill’s birthday wish pleases me.
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